Soul Survivor

Chapter 9

"Toni. It's time to find out your challenge."

Oh man. I hope it's climbing rope. Please be something easy. I tap my fingers on my back rapidly, using up nervous energy. Deep breaths. The crowd settles down, listening intently. Zerena and Taff stand with their arms crossed. Taff unfolds his arms and waves at a building outside. "Follow us."

We leave the building and pile onto the street. Opposite us is a tall block of offices. It stands strong with a sturdy structure. However, most of it's once glamorous glass windows have been shattered.

A voice behind me makes me jump. It's Taff. "Right now a member of our squad is hiding your bag in one of the rooms in that building. He used to work there and therefore has access to the inside. You will have 10 minutes to find your bag. However, you will not have access to the inside of the building. You will have to climb your way up."

Once Taff concludes, I feel the butterflies in my stomach start to flutter. Hold on a minute. If the windows are broken, all I need to do is climb up until I reach one that has a floor below it - then I'm in and I can use the stairs. Suddenly, as I lift my chin up, I feel almost relived. At least I don't have to walk over hot coals or jump through fire.

A small girl with long brown hair jogs towards the group from the direction of the building. "Done." She calls cheerfully, her cheeks tinted red.

"What happens if I run away?" I ask quietly. "What?" The voice behind me known as Lino splutters. Raising my voice a little, I say, "Well? What if you let go and I just run?" Taff scoffs. "You wouldn't last more than three days without food or water. Plus, if you run..." He pulls the handle of a small gun from his trench coat pocket, which seems to be as deep as Mary Poppins' bag. "I'll shoot. You'll either die instantly or bleed out." Okay, escape is definitely off the menu.

Zerena raises her hands into the sky. "Your time" I inhale. "Starts" Exhale. "Now." Lino shoves me forward and I stumble into a run. CRAP!

Stopping at the door to the building, I try to place my hands on the top of the door. I can't reach - my arms strech out as much as possible right down to my fingertips but they don't even come close. A shining silver post box juts out from the steel door frame. If I can get my foot up I'll be able to reach the first glass pannel. Bending my knees, I take hold of the heel of my dusty shoe and stand up straight. Whispers of "What is she doing?" Drift across the street. Stepping back, I dash as fast as I can, step up the frame and plant my right foot on the top of the post box.

Once I've regained my balance, I stand up.

I then start to scramble up the building, using anything I can to place my feet and hands. The first level of windows is higher up than it looked. With the burning summer sun on my back, my t-shirt soon glued to my body as if it was afraid it would fall off if it let go. The people below watch on in silence. The muscles in my arms and legs rebel against me but my will allows me to continue. Finally, I reach the first floor. Looking across at the other buildings, I realise it is not the first floor at all, more like the second or third. My chin peers over the small frosting of glass left standing where the rest has fallen in. To my left, a CCTV camera emerges from the wall. Its rounded black casing is cracked, revealing the hidden lens. If I stand on it, I will be tall enough to step into the building without cutting myself on the broken glass, but will it hold under pressure? A shout from below lets me know it's been 5 minutes. That's half time. There's no way I'm going to find my bag if I take the time to be cautious: I'm dead anyway.

My foot finds its way onto the broken dome and I feel it move. I transfer my weight and push up as fast as I can. The dome breaks. I fall but my hand is already through the window. Natural reflexes produce a short yelp and I shut my eyes tightly, waiting to hit the ground. A wet drip lands on my nose. My eyes open. I have not fallen to my miserable demise. Instead, squat window shards keep my hand in place on the edge. Blood slowly trickles down my wrist. Adrenaline keeps the pain away. I pull myself up and into the building, un-skewering my flesh in the process. Someone claps from the street. More hands join in until I'm guessing almost everyone is applauding the fact I made it this far. I would too, but I'm running out of time.

I am standing in what seems to have been some sort of conference room. A long table fills the space. at the other end, I spot a half-open elevator shaft. I run to it, expecting a staircase adjacent. It's not there. Dashing about the entire floor I curse in acceptance of the fact that this building was a newly built office block and in modern society nobody uses stairs so they didn't bother building any. Lifts need electricity to work and right now there is none - the whole national grid is probably dud by now. Goodbye technology, so much for living in the digital age. My bag, which holds all my most precious personal possessions is, unfortunately, not on this floor.

What do I do now? I have three options. Option one: I go back to the window and continue to climb the outside, glancing through at each level. Option two: see what is inside the shaft and find a way to travel along it. Option three: find a way to escape and risk getting shot.

I don't like any of these options.